


neither rest nor relaxation

by avalonjoan



Series: Henrietta: without magic, with medical careers [13]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medical, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Caretaking, College, College Student Adam Parrish, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fever, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mononucleosis, Paramedic Ronan Lynch, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, hahaha back at it again with the, i feel like there should be tags for that already, nothing graphic or on screen though, well technically he's an EMT at this stage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29312316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avalonjoan/pseuds/avalonjoan
Summary: If Ronan hadn’t known that Adam was there, he might have thought to look elsewhere for him; instead, he went over to the bed and started peeling off blankets in search of his boyfriend. Finally, he found the hood of the Aglionby tennis sweatshirt that Adam had decided belonged to him and spotted a tuft of hair poking out.“Christ, it’s like a fucking sauna in there,” he muttered, sliding his hand under the hood to lift it away from Adam’s face. “Come on, Parrish, you’re gonna cook yourself like that.”“But ‘s comfy.” Between whatever the fuck was wrong with his throat and the pillow his face was smushed into, Adam’s voice was barely understandable. He rolled onto his back and looked up at Ronan, blinking slowly. “You’re here.”Nodding, Ronan crouched beside the bed and kissed Adam’s forehead. “I told you I would be.”--When Adam gets mono right at the end of the semester, Ronan figures he'll have plenty of time to study for his own finals while Adam rests.  Unfortunately for both of them, Adam has never rested a day in his life, and doesn't plan to start now.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Series: Henrietta: without magic, with medical careers [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1971451
Comments: 39
Kudos: 136





	1. Chapter 1

While Ronan would bitch endlessly about the slightest inconvenience, Adam didn’t complain about anything, ever. So when he asked to reschedule their weekly Zoom date because his throat was bothering him, Ronan knew that something was up. 

“It’s not a big deal,” he said when he called Ronan an hour before their usual Monday time, “A bunch of us stayed up late studying for psych, so my voice is just tired from talking until three AM.”

“You’re sure that’s all?”

“Yeah. I’ve been mainlining tea today, and I’ll actually get some sleep tonight and it’ll be fine.” Ronan could hear Adam shuffling things around, unzipping his backpack, flipping pages. “Want to make it a brunch date tomorrow? I’m free until twelve.”

“Let me check my schedule.” Ronan pushed himself out of bed and went to his own backpack, pulling out his day planner, because he actually had a planner now, because he actually had shit to plan. “Uh, yeah,” he said, “I’m meeting with my study group at two, but that’s it. Let’s say ten?”

The rustling on Adam’s end stopped. “Works for me. Remind me when your final is?”

Ronan flipped to the following week in his planner. “The written one is Monday, and the practical is Wednesday.”

“I hope you know how proud I am of you.”

It was a good thing they weren’t on video, because Ronan blushed, and Adam would have pointed it out, which would have made it worse, and then Ronan would be looking like a tomato. A happy tomato, though. It had been a long time since he had something to be proud of, let alone for someone like Adam to be proud of, and even if that something was finishing a semester of a community college paramedic program, he’d take it. “Wait until I’ve passed them before you say that.”

“You will.”

God, he missed Adam. He missed being held. He missed laughing and cuddling and fucking and he just—it felt like a part of his heart was missing when Adam was at school. It was the worst right at the end of each semester—always darkest before the dawn and all that shit—but knowing that this time next week, he’d be tangled under blankets with Adam in their bed—Ronan had never been a patient man. “I should let you get back to work.”

“I suppose. See you tomorrow.”

“Love you. Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Ronan flopped backward onto the bed. He could study. He _should_ study. He wanted Adam.   
  


* * *

  
Adam was late.

Adam was never late. For anything. Ever.

“I’m so sorry, babe,” he said when he joined the call at 10:15, “I must have shut my alarm off in my sleep.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ronan waited for Adam’s face to appear—it had been too long since they’d seen each other. “Your video’s off.”

“Shit, sorry, hang on.” A second later, Adam was on screen, sitting on his bed.

He looked exhausted. Not the usual college-tired, but the way that Adam used to look when he worked three jobs when they were in high school. Like he hadn’t slept at all the night before, and like he could go back to sleep this second if given the opportunity. 

Knowing that Adam was always quick to deflect any concerns about his sleep schedule, Ronan did his best to circle around to it. “How’s your throat today?”

Adam made a face, shrugged. “Not great. I think I’m coming down with something.”

“Awful timing for it. Want me to let you rest?”

“No.” Suddenly he was wide awake, sitting up straight and adjusting his computer as if he could make himself appear less fatigued by simply changing the camera angle. “We have a week and a day to catch up on, and I’ve got my psych study group in an hour and a half. You go first.”

Ronan raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Instead, he told Adam the story about how his Wednesday partner’s phone charging cable caught on fire, in the ambulance, at two AM. Ronan, in his sleep deprived state at the time, had reported this to dispatch as ‘the truck being on fire’ and then hung up, which had resulted in a much more...alarmed response than was necessary. A fire truck (or three) may have gotten involved. It was good to see Adam laugh, but it didn’t make him look any less tired.  
  


* * *

  
Ronan knew that something was very, very wrong when Adam called him at eight AM the next morning specifically to whine. “I think I have a fever,” he groaned, and Ronan could practically hear the pout in his voice. “And I’m so tired but my throat hurts and I can’t sleep.”

“Turn on your video.” Ronan had been, as he usually was on Wednesday mornings, asleep, but Adam’s call had rendered him fully alert. He pushed himself up in bed so that he was leaning against this headboard. 

When Adam switched to FaceTime, Ronan’s heart sank. If Adam looked exhausted yesterday, today he looked...whatever was a step beyond that. He looked like he was fighting to stay awake, his eyelids drifting closed every few seconds. His face was still pressed into his pillow, and Ronan could see that his hair was stuck with sweat to his forehead.

“You don’t look good.”

“I don’t feel good.”

Shit. Ronan had heard Adam say that once before, and he’d been curled on the floor of his bathroom at Saint Agnes with the worst headache he’d had in almost a year since that night with Robert Parrish. He’d been too sick to stand; Ronan had fallen asleep sitting upright with Adam’s head in his lap, and when morning came, asked him to come live with him at the Barns. “Maybe you should go to health service.”

“No.” He shook his head, falling slightly out of view of the camera as he sat up. “No, I’ll be fine.”

Ronan _had_ been comfortably warm under his covers, but he suddenly felt so anxious that he couldn’t sit still. Holding his phone up so that his face was still in frame, he got up and started to pace between his bed and the door. “Do you have a way to check your temperature?”

“I can see if Willa has a thermometer—let me text her.” Adam’s face disappeared for a few seconds as he typed out a message, then returned. “You really don’t need to worry.”

“You don’t get to wake me up on my day off because you feel sick and not expect me to worry.”

With a huff, Adam shot Ronan a glare that would have been menacing if not for the fact that he looked absolutely pathetic with his flushed cheeks and messy hair. “Well, I’m sorry for interrupting your precious sleep because—”

“Adam, that’s not what I meant and you—”

“—I thought that talking with my _boyfriend_ would help—”

Sitting back down on the bed, Ronan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry.” Adam didn’t reply. “I’m not upset. Why don’t you take some ibuprofen and try to get some sleep?”

“I have a review session.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to go to classes or whatever with a fever.”

“Then I just won’t check my temperature.”

Groaning, Ronan threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. “You are absolutely _killing_ me, Parrish.”

“I’m kidding.” 

Ronan wasn’t sure if he believed him, but wasn’t about to start another argument. “At least try to rest, please? Don’t make me come up there and sit on you to keep you in bed.”

Adam nodded. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.” 

Ending the call, Ronan tossed his phone onto the bed, where it bounced off and tumbled to the floor. Rather that shove his arm along the wall to get it, he opted to drop face-first onto his pillow. He stayed there until he couldn’t breathe, then rolled onto his side. There were few things he hated more than knowing that something was wrong with Adam, and something being wrong with Adam when Ronan wasn’t there was at the top of the list. Any hope of studying today went out the window. Maybe he’d go for a drive.  
  


* * *

  
Ronan had been driving (irresponsibly, angrily) back to the Barns when his music cut out and a call from Adam came in. Slowing down, he pressed a button on the dash to accept the call. “What’s up?”

“‘m really sick, Ro.” 

He didn’t quite slam on the brakes, but he did come to a faster-than-advisable stop, pulling onto the dirt strip beside the road. “What’s wrong?”

“Like, I slept for a few hours and I just feel worse and I actually do have a fever.”

“How high?”

“101.” He paused. “Willa says it might be mono. She had it last year.”

Ronan took a deep breath, sighed it out. “Fuck.” He rubbed his hands over his face, trying to think. “Hang on.” He turned on his video and waited for Adam to do the same. “Holy shit, dude, you look terrible.”

More accurately, the part of Adam’s face that Ronan could see looked terrible. He had on what appeared to be two sweatshirts, the hoods obscuring most of one cheek and his forehead, and he was holding the neckline of one up to cover his chin. The area around his eyes looked...swollen? But maybe it was just the lack of sleep. Ronan couldn’t tell. They didn’t teach that kind of thing at medic school. 

“I know.”

“Will you please go to health service?”

“No.”

“Maybe they can give you something to help you feel better.”

“I’m not going.”

Ronan slammed his hand onto the steering wheel, gripping it so tightly that his fingers hurt. “Dammit, Adam, why are you being so difficult about this?”

Adam let go of the collar of his sweatshirt, and it slid back down toward his chest. He was still looking at the camera, but at the same time, he wasn’t. While he’d looked frustrated seconds ago, now he just looked neutral. Absent. Gone.

“Shit.” Letting go of the steering wheel, Ronan brought his hand up to grip the back of his head. “Fuck.” He exhaled, lips pressed in a line. “I’m sorry. You—you didn’t deserve that. That was my fault, I shouldn’t have raised my voice, I’m—” Adam still wasn’t there, eyes looking somewhere offscreen. “Hey, Parrish. Adam Parrish.”

Adam blinked, took a breath, swallowed. Ronan saw him wince and hoped it was from pain, not fear.

Doing his best to hone in on what he was feeling, Ronan apologized, “I’m sorry. I’m worried about you and I don’t know how to help, but you didn’t deserve that. This wasn’t your fault, it was mine.” Still, he got barely any acknowledgement that Adam had heard him. He dug his fingernails into his scalp. “I—I can go, and you can call me back, in a little while, or when you’re ready, or—” 

Or never, because Ronan had fucked up and this was it, he’d finally scared Adam off. Adam could be miserable in his dorm and still be better off than if he’d had Ronan and this was how it ended. Maybe he’d send Gansey by to get his things. Maybe he’d tell Gansey everything and Gansey would know that the Ronan he met was actually gone and he’d be alone and—

“The last time I went to a doctor or a hospital or whatever was when I—” Adam’s voice was barely audible, but he had moved his free hand up to cover his deaf ear and suddenly Ronan felt so fucking stupid. Of fucking course. He closed his eyes, gathered himself, then looked back to Adam.

“Oh, love,” he murmured, an endearment he hadn’t heard since his mother died. She would have liked Adam. She'd liked everyone, but she would have especially liked Adam. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Adam shrugged. “You couldn’t have known.”

“Still.” He was quiet as he turned the situation over and over in his head. Adam wouldn’t like it, but— “What about if I went with you?”

That got Adam’s attention. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“I did, but—you’ve got class and work and exams and—”

“—and I will find a way to come up there and be with you.” 

There was a flicker of relief on Adam’s face, his shoulders relaxing for a second before he shook his head. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

Ronan knew he was getting there—just a few more gentle pushes. “You’re not. I’m the one asking. I’ve got paid time off to burn, my exams aren’t until next week—it’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want to give it to you, though.”

“Then just don’t lick me and we’ll be all set.” Come on come on come on—

Adam nodded. “Okay.”

For the first time since the morning, Ronan felt like he could breathe. “Thank you.”

“What’re you thanking me for?”

“For letting me take care of you.” He let that sit for a second, then added, softly, “I know you, Adam.”

The corner of Adam’s mouth turned up in the smallest smile. “You do.” He yawned, rubbing at his eyes with a fist. “I’m gonna try to sleep for a while longer. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Ronan glanced at the dash. It was eleven—it would take him at least an hour to rearrange his schedule and get on the road, and he knew he could make the drive in ten hours safely, maybe shave off half an hour if he pushed it. “Tonight.”

“You’re not serious.”

“I’m so incredibly serious.”

Shaking his head in—disbelief? Adam knew Ronan better than to be surprised by something like this. “I’ll text you Willa’s number—she’s always up late and I don’t think I’ll be physically able to make it downstairs to let you in anyway.” 

“Sounds good.”

“Please drive safely. I love you.”

“I will. Love you, too. Get some rest.”

When the call ended, Ronan pulled back onto the road and continued homeward, already making a mental packing list, planning the best route for this time of day, lining up the people he’d need to call and email to make this work. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2thirdsofatriplethreat is out here planting little fic seeds in my brain on tumblr every day and finally that crop has come to fruition.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re doing great.” Ronan ran his fingers through Adam’s hair.
> 
> Adam shrugged. “I guess I should probably deal with this shit at some point.” Ronan made a sound of question, but didn’t let go of Adam. “You can’t come with me every time I need to go to the doctor.”
> 
> “I can and I will.” 
> 
> “I should probably deal with this shit anyway.”
> 
> Ronan rested his lips against Adam’s head. “Another time.”

Getting in at eleven PM wasn’t terrible; Ronan had definitely had longer drives and later arrivals, but the added stress of a sick Adam waiting for him had made the trip feel endless. He parked the BMW in the same garage he’d been parking in for the last year and a half, grabbed his bag, and walked to Adam’s dorm as quickly as he could, stomping right through puddles of slush from the melting snow. Willa let him into the building, cautioning him that Adam was, unsurprisingly, asleep.

“How long are you gonna stay for?” she asked as they went up the stairs. “Not like, trying to get you out the door already—I’m going home tomorrow after my chem final anyway.”

“As long as he’ll let me. But I do have to head back on Sunday at the latest.” He paused, deciding how much he wanted to share. “I’ve got my principles of paramedicine final on Monday.”

“So is this the exam where you work on a pretend patient?”

In the beginning, it felt like Adam’s friends were just being polite when they asked him about his work. These were kids who interned at the NSA and NASA and other acronyms that started with N, and he worked as an EMT at a little service in Virginia after barely graduating from high school. It hadn’t occurred to him that they would actually be interested in what he did until he and Riley had an hour-long conversation about it in the common room after everyone, including Adam, had gone to bed.

“Monday is the written exam, but Wednesday we do a few different scenarios in the sim lab. They have this high-fidelity manikin that you can start an IV on and intubate and like...I think it can vomit if they want to give us a hard time.”

Laughing, Willa turned back to look at him. “That sounds like fun.”

Ronan smiled. “It kind of is. But like, stressful fun.”

“Well, tell Adam to let us know how you do.”

“I will.” Damn, now he  _ had _ to do well.

When they arrived at her and Adam’s room, Willa turned to Ronan and spoke in a low voice. “I’m staying in Dani’s room tonight, so like—” she made a vague gesture, and Ronan nodded, grateful. While Willa was a phenomenal friend, Ronan and Adam were still, ultimately, private people. Ronan had gotten used to falling asleep in Adam’s bed with Willa in hers, but it always felt strange to have a whispered conversation with someone else there. “I’ll, uh, leave you here, then.”

“Thank you.”

She opened the door and stepped back to let Ronan pass, closing it behind him with a little wave. The only light was from her desk lamp, illuminating the room just enough so that Ronan could find his way around. If he hadn’t known that Adam was there, though, he might have thought to look elsewhere; instead, he went over to the bed and started peeling off blankets in search of his boyfriend. Finally, he found the hood of the Aglionby tennis sweatshirt that Adam had decided belonged to him and spotted a tuft of hair poking out.

“Christ, it’s like a fucking sauna in there,” he muttered, sliding his hand under the hood to lift it away from Adam’s face. “Come on, Parrish, you’re gonna cook yourself like that.”

“But ‘s comfy.” Between whatever the fuck was wrong with his throat and the pillow his face was smushed into, Adam’s voice was barely understandable. He rolled onto his back and looked up at Ronan, blinking slowly. “You’re here.”

Nodding, Ronan crouched beside the bed and kissed Adam’s forehead. “I told you I would be.” Fuck, he was so goddamn warm. “Can I take at least one of these off? I’m gonna die if I have to cuddle you in your sweaty fever nest.”

“Fine.” Adam allowed Ronan to shift him around, disentangling him from what was probably every blanket and sheet he owned. After a brief, whiny argument, he took off the sweatshirt and swapped his drenched t-shirt for a clean one, then lay back. “You gotta hold me now that you made me all cold again.”

“Obviously.” Ronan quickly stripped down to his underwear and slid into bed behind Adam, tucking his face against the other’s neck. “Doesn’t this feel better?”

Adam shrugged. “Still cold, but I like havin’ you here.”

“You’ll warm up.” Rubbing Adam’s upper arm for a few seconds before putting a hand on his chest, Ronan pressed their bodies as close as possible. “Try to go back to sleep, love.”  
  


* * *

  
Waking up next to Adam: amazing. Waking up underneath a feverish, sweaty, slightly drooling Adam: less amazing. Sometime in the night, they’d shifted positions so that Ronan was on his back with Adam’s head on his chest, and he was  _ suffering _ . Well, they both were, but Ronan took a few seconds to lament his current situation before Adam woke up in a far worse state. Even pinned down and overheated, though, there was nowhere else Ronan would rather be.

Adam woke shortly after with a long whine, pressing his face into Ronan’s shoulder. “I hate this.”

“I know, babe.” Craning his neck, Ronan kissed the top of Adam’s head. “I’m sorry you’re so sick.”

“I just wanna go home.”

“I know.” Ronan ran one hand over Adam’s back; he’d sweat through his shirt overnight and it stuck to his skin. “We’ll be home soon.” If Ronan had any choice in the matter, he’d take Adam back to the Barns this instant, settle him in their bed, and not move from his side except to get whatever Adam was willing to eat. Speaking of which— “Are you hungry?”

Adam shrugged. “Hurts too much to swallow.”

“Not what I asked.” With a gentle nudge, Ronan moved Adam to the side and propped himself up on one arm. “How about a smoothie? I passed some bougie juice and whatever place on my walk over.”

“Ro, stop.” Adam curled in a ball and pulled the blanket over his shoulder. “‘m not hungry.”

It was an obvious lie, but it did give Ronan a lead into the next task of the day. “Okay. Well, I’m going to get coffee before my caffeine headache kicks in, and then we can head over to health service.” There was another drawn-out whine from Adam. “That’s the whole reason I’m up here, remember?”

Adam nodded. “I remember.” Not opening his eyes, he added, “Can you get me some tea, though? Please?”

“Hot?”

“Sure.” Adam cracked one eye open. “Sorry for being grumpy.”

Shaking his head, Ronan kissed Adam’s forehead and got out of bed, changing into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. “You’re allowed to be grumpy. What kind of tea?” Adam shrugged. “Caffeine or no?” He nodded. “Alright. Text me if you decide you want anything else.”

Ronan tucked the blankets around Adam’s shoulder’s, grabbed his keys and ID off the desk, and headed out. Harvard Square was somehow slushier than it was the night before, and he spent the walk to and from Adam’s favorite little cafe silently bemoaning the fact that he would be spending the next two years (at least) dealing with these winters. He bemoaned it a little less after a few bites of a chocolate croissant while he was waiting for their drinks to be ready.

When Ronan returned, balancing a cardboard drink tray in one hand as he opened the door, Adam was fast asleep. Setting the tray on the desk, Ronan took a seat on the bed and touched Adam’s cheek with the back of his fingers. “Hey.” Adam’s eyes fluttered open. “I got some kind of peppermint green tea. And some yogurt, too, in case you decide you’re hungry.”

Adam leaned into Ronan’s touch, humming softly. “Thank you,” he mumbled. “You’re so good to me.”

“Someone’s gotta do it.” There was nothing Ronan wanted than to be that someone for the rest of his life. “Now up. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can go back to bed.”

“I’ve gotta study today.” Adam sat up slowly, running a hand down the side of his neck and frowning. “Ew—feel this.” He took Ronan’s hand and placed it where his own had been.

Scrunching his face up in a caricature of disgust, Ronan pushed his fingers around the area for a few seconds. “Fucking gross, dude.” Adam swatted at him with his free hand, looking at least mildly entertained. “What? You make me touch your big lymph nodes, I get to say that they’re gross.”

“Jerk.” 

Ronan leaned forward and kissed Adam’s forehead, then his nose, and then one of the freshly-insulted lymph nodes. “Now that you’re all riled up, let’s go. We can study and cuddle for the rest of the day, but you’ve gotta go get looked at first.”

This seemed acceptable to Adam, who sat on the edge of the bed while Ronan found some weather-appropriate clothes for him. Adam had insisted on changing out of his PJs, even though Ronan was sure that people showed up to health service looking a lot less put-together than Adam’s current state. Once Ronan deemed him adequately bundled up, Adam picked up his tea and led the way to the medical building.

By some miracle, the waiting room was relatively empty; Ronan had been prepared to wait for ages with Adam falling asleep on his shoulder. They had been seated for only a few minutes, Adam’s face now covered with a surgical mask, when a nurse came out and called his name. When he and Ronan stood together, she looked between the two of them and Adam weakly waved his hand. “That’s me.”

She looked to Ronan. “I’m gonna have you wait out here, okay?”

Adam stiffened, standing to his full height; he’d been slouching against Ronan while they waited, either for warmth, comfort, or both. “No,” he said, looking from the woman to Ronan, “No. If he can’t come, I’m—I’m not going.”

“Hey,” Ronan touched Adam’s cheek, directed his gaze to him. He’d known this was a possibility, but apparently it hadn’t occurred to Adam. “You’re okay. I’ll be right here when you’re—”

“No.” Adam looked on the verge of tears. It had been a long time since Ronan had seen him so fragile. “I’m not doing this without you.”

Ronan turned to the nurse, ready for an argument, because the alternative was an explanation. Sure, it was likely that campus security would be called on him for being hostile or aggressive or any of the other things that he could be, but it wasn’t Ronan’s story to tell. “Look, if—” 

The nurse made a small waving gesture with both hands, and Ronan stopped short. He hadn’t realized that they had both started speaking at the same time. She restarted, voice too gentle, like she somehow knew what was going on, “Hey--it’s alright. If you want him here, he can come.” She looked to Adam, who nodded and fit his hand into Ronan’s, looking just a little more present. “The NP might ask you to step out at some point, but you can take that up with her. Follow me.” She led them down the hall to an exam room, took Adam’s vitals, swabbed his throat, and left them to wait for the nurse practitioner.

Once Adam got into a comfortable position on the exam table, curled on his side, Ronan took off his coat and draped it over him like a blanket. “You doing okay?”

Adam shrugged with a snort of laughter. “I feel like a fucking child.”

Stepping away from the table for a second, Ronan grabbed the nearby chair and dragged it over so that he was sitting beside Adam, their eyes almost at the same level. “You shouldn’t. I’m proud of you for doing this.”

“‘s a silly thing to be proud of.”

Ronan slid his hand under the jacket-blanket and found Adam’s fingers. He fit his own between them, rubbing his thumb over whatever bit of skin was closest. “Living well is the best revenge, yeah?”

“Who said that?”

“Not a fucking clue.”

Adam brought Ronan’s hand to his lips. “Thank you.”

“Rest your voice, Parrish.”

The NP came in before Adam could fall back to sleep, introducing herself as Ray. “You’re Adam, I take it?” He nodded, sitting up. “And who’s this with you?”

“Boyfriend,” Adam said, smiling. “Ronan.”

“It’s nice to meet you both.” Ray smiled, then started talking with Adam about the past few days. Everything was going smoothly, all ‘yes ma’am’ and ‘no ma’am’ from Adam, until she asked about his medical history; at the question, he suddenly turned his head so that his left ear faced away from her. He squeezed Ronan’s hand so tightly that Ronan flinched. After lifting his other hand about halfway to his ear, Adam stopped and rested his fist on one thigh, knuckles blanched. Ronan was about to ask if Adam wanted him to explain, but then Adam took a deep breath and replied, voice monotone, looking down, “I have a ruptured eardrum on that side.” Ronan brought up his free hand to rub Adam’s back, feeling him lean into the contact before going on, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

After a pause, Ray nodded. “Are you having any pain there now?” Adam shook his head. “Alright. I won’t take a look unless you tell me to, okay?”

“Thanks.” Adam visibly relaxed, loosening his grip on Ronan’s hand after a few seconds, but not letting go until Ray started to examine him.

When Ray shined the light in Adam’s throat, she made a sympathetic sound before having him close his mouth. “Those are some awful looking tonsils you’ve got there,” she said, “Are you eating and drinking okay?”

Adam shrugged.

Ronan had been careful to let Adam speak for himself, but now he added, “He isn’t.” Adam glared at him. “What? I’m right.”

With a gentle smile, Ray nodded and went on. She felt Adam’s neck, listened to his lungs, pressed on his abdomen; he smiled at the last part, on the edge of a laugh. Once Ray was finished, she leaned against the wall facing him. “I think your roommate’s diagnosis is probably right, but I’d like to get some labs to confirm. You okay with blood draws?” He nodded. “Alright. I’ll send the nurse in, and we’ll get you some Tylenol to get that fever down. Sound good?”

“Thank you.” After Ray stepped out, Adam leaned against Ronan, who pulled him as close as he could, what with Adam still being seated on the table. He let out a long sigh against Ronan’s chest.

“You’re doing great.” Ronan ran his fingers through Adam’s hair.

Adam shrugged. “I guess I should probably deal with this shit at some point.” Ronan made a sound of question, but didn’t let go of Adam. “You can’t come with me every time I need to go to the doctor.”

“I can and I will.” 

“I should probably deal with this shit anyway.”

Ronan rested his lips against Adam’s head. “Another time.”

The nurse from before came in to draw Adam’s blood, giving him a plastic cup with a few pills and a can of ginger ale. It would be forty-five minutes before the results were ready, she explained, offering to turn out the lights so he could rest while they waited. Adam seemed grateful for the suggestion as he lay back down, taking Ronan’s hand and placing it on his head. Smiling, Ronan started massaging Adam’s scalp with his fingertips; Adam sighed, relaxing his shoulders and closing his eyes. The table wasn’t big enough to fit them both, so the best he could do to get close to Adam now was to sit in the chair and rest his cheek on the table’s vinyl cushion, near enough to hear Adam breathing.

When Ray came back in, Ronan was half-asleep himself; he gently shook Adam awake, trying not to startle him and mostly succeeding. Once Adam was upright and paying some degree of attention, Ray delivered the not-unexpected diagnosis of infectious mononucleosis. She explained what it meant: unbelievable amounts of sleep, a few days of prednisone to help Adam’s tonsils get back to a manageable size, and absolutely no physical activity beyond walking for three weeks. Ronan still wasn’t clear about what the spleen did, but apparently mono made it easy to just...pop. 

None of this seemed to register with Adam. “I have a final tomorrow, and one on Monday.”

“Well, for tomorrow’s, you absolutely cannot sit for an exam in a room full of people with a fever.” Adam opened his mouth, and Ray quickly went on, “And no, it doesn’t count if you take a bunch of Tylenol before you go.” She started talking about some University procedures, contacting his Dean, taking an incomplete in the class, taking finals after break. Gently, she asked, “Where’s home for you?”

“Virginia.” 

“With me,” Ronan added quickly.  _ Don’t ask about his parents don’t ask about his— _

“My recommendation is that you head back to Virginia, let this one look after you—” she tilted her head at Ronan “—and finish your exams when you come back.”

Adam was silent, and Ronan combed his fingers through his hair. “Want to think about it for a little bit?”

“I can start the process, let your Dean know what I think,” Ray offered, “but I obviously can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.” 

Shaking his head, Ronan stifled a laugh. God knows how much he (and Gansey, and Blue) had tried to make Adam do things he didn’t want to, and he couldn’t think of a single time it had ended well.

“I’ll think about it.”

Ray reviewed everything from the visit, handed him a pamphlet on mono and a blister pack of bright red numbing lozenges, and sent them down to the pharmacy to pick up his prescription. By this point, the Tylenol had taken effect and Adam was too warm, sweating under all his layers. “I hate this so much,” he muttered, tying his sweatshirt around his waist and putting his coat back on before they went outside.

“Maybe you’d hate it less if you were in our big comfy bed and not in thirty-fucking-degree weather?”

“Maybe.” Adam looped his arm through Ronan’s, not-quite-clinging to him as they walked to his dorm. “I know I said I was gonna study when we got back, but…”

Bumping Adam with his hip, Ronan looked at him, noting how he barely reacted, tired eyes focused on the sidewalk. “Let me guess—you’re gonna take a nap first?” Adam nodded, and Ronan slowed to a halt. He turned Adam by the shoulders so that they were facing each other and tugged Adam’s scarf so that it was covering his nose, already pink from being in the cold, then adjusted his hat. “Please let me take you home.”

That was all it took, which was perhaps the most telling thing from the whole day about how sick Adam was. He put his arms around Ronan and buried his face against his neck. “Can we go today?”

“Music to my fucking ears, Parrish. Let’s go pack your shit.”  
  


* * *

  
Adam was good at packing quickly, something that Ronan didn’t want to think about, especially with the experience at the clinic so fresh in his mind. Not that he had much time to think about it—Adam was ready to go within ten minutes of getting back to his room. “I’ll email my Dean when we get in the car,” he said, allowing Ronan to take the heavier of his bags without complaint. “Also, I know you like, just drove up here, so if you want me to—”

“Crash my car when you fall asleep at the wheel? No thanks.” Ronan jerked his head toward the door and went into the hall while Adam locked up. “Your only job for the next week is to sleep, take your meds, and actually let me do things for you. I  _ will  _ sit on you to keep you in bed if I have to.”

Nodding, Adam suddenly looked at Ronan and smiled. “Pretty sure that’s against the spleen rules.” Okay, so he wasn’t wrong about that. Ronan followed Adam downstairs and back outside into the cold, heading toward the parking garage

“Speaking of which—I’m assuming that sex counts as physical activity, yeah?”

Adam groaned, frowning. “I was hoping you weren’t gonna say that.”

“So you were gonna try to get away with it and just let your spleen explode while I’m fucking you?”

“Maybe.”

“Fucking ridiculous.” Still walking, Ronan leaned over and kissed Adam’s head—well, his hat. “I suppose it’s not the worst way to go.” 

Even with just his eyes visible above his scarf, it was obvious that Adam was grinning as he said, “‘He died doing what he loved—getting railed by his loving boyfriend.’ What a start to a eulogy.”

Ronan fell a step behind, laughing as Adam continued to walk. “Nah, man, that’s going right on your tombstone.” It felt good—reassuring—to joke around with Adam, to see that even after the morning’s distress and that fact that he was miserably sick, he was doing alright. 

Once they reached the car, Ronan put Adam’s bags in the trunk while Adam got settled in the passenger seat. He was asleep by the time they reached the highway.

The ride home was uneventful, although potentially the quietest drive that Ronan had ever taken. He physically couldn’t operate a motor vehicle without some background music, but he kept the volume as low as possible, even adjusting the balance so that the speakers on Adam’s side of the car were silent. Nevertheless, Adam woke up every hour or so in some sort of discomfort, either too hot or too cold or his throat hurting too much, and Ronan would do his best to soothe him back to sleep, sometimes pulling over to help him out of his extra layers or retrieve a blanket from his packed bags to tuck around him.

They pulled up to the Barns around nine. Adam woke up just enough to go inside, walk up to the bedroom, and go right back to sleep, fully clothed. When Ronan caught up to him, luggage in hand, he sighed softly and went over to the bed. “You can’t sleep like this,” he said, touching Adam’s cheek, “At least take your jacket off.”

Nodding, clearly too tired for words, Adam let Ronan undress him and get him under the covers. He smiled when Ronan kissed his forehead, then curled on his side.

“I love you,” Ronan whispered, “Sleep well.” He slipped out of the room, then outside; he’d been cooped up in the car for too long to even think about going to bed without stretching his legs. After aimlessly wandering the property for the better part of an hour, listening to an EMS podcast so that he could a least pretend he was studying, he headed back. He took a quick shower before getting in bed behind Adam, who had thrown the covers off but was now sweaty and shivering. Cozying up to him, Ronan closed his eyes to sleep; even if this was the worst that Adam got, they were still looking at a long few days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have the right to have a support person at a medical visit with you! I often phrase it as "I'm going to have you wait here/step out" to the other person because you also have the right to privacy and I want to make sure that you (the patient) aren't being coerced/controlled into having someone there, but you can always say "No, I want them to stay."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam Parrish was going to kill Ronan.
> 
> Well, he was going to kill himself, which would in turn kill Ronan.
> 
> His Sunday afternoon weapon of choice: leaves.

Adam actually did a decent job of letting Ronan take care of him on Friday. He had a momentary freakout when one of his classmates texted him to ask why he wasn’t at the exam, with Adam worrying that he’d overreacted by going home. It had been relatively easy to convince him to the contrary; all Ronan needed to do was show Adam the thermometer reading of 101.7 to remind him that the choice had ultimately been made for him. Ronan studied on the couch with Adam’s head in his lap. They ordered takeout. Adam fell asleep twenty minutes into The Secret of Kells. It was a nice pause from Ronan’s usually hectic work and school schedules, although he wished that it hadn’t taken Adam getting sick for it to happen.  
  


* * *

  
When Ronan woke up on Saturday, Adam wasn’t there.

At first, it seemed like a good thing—he’d been asleep for the better part of the past few days, so maybe he was feeling better—but when Ronan dressed and went downstairs, the only evidence of Adam was a notebook on the kitchen table and waiting pot of coffee. He poured himself a cup and was about to start breakfast when he heard the sound of the washer door opening. Covering his face with one hand for a moment, he set his mug down and went back upstairs to find Adam in the laundry room, pulling wet clothes from the machine. 

Taking advantage of Adam’s fatigue, Ronan snatched the laundry basket off the floor before Adam could lift it. “I can’t leave you alone, can I?”

“I’m not making you clean up after me,” Adam insisted, trying to yank the basket out of Ronan’s hands.

“I don’t understand why you’re being so fucking stubborn about this,” Ronan replied as he twisted away. “I mean, I  _ know _ why, but like—you’re not gonna win this.”

If Ronan didn’t know better, he’d swear that he saw Adam stamp his foot. “I can’t just do nothing for three weeks, Lynch.”

Ronan sighed; he had to admit that he would probably be just as insufferable if he were in Adam’s shoes. “Can we at least try to find you something to do that won’t give you massive internal bleeding?”

“What do you suggest?”

Shit. Ronan flipped through house-things, trying to find some necessary task that Adam could do. “You can cook while I do everything else.”

Adam looked to the side in consideration. He swallowed, visibly pained, and attempted to clear his throat before suddenly turning away from Ronan and coughing. “Fuck,” he muttered after, massaging his fingers below the angle of his jaw and frowning. Finally, Ronan caught his eye and attempted to convey ‘ _ now _ will you listen?’ in a look. Adam nodded. “Okay. That means you’re gonna have to let me out of the house to go shopping, though.”

“We have things here.”

Shaking his head, Adam laughed. “I know how you eat when I’m not home.”

Okay, Adam did have a point. In his defense, Ronan had been working on it, but especially now that he was in school  _ and _ working, he definitely hadn’t been eating as well as he had when Adam was there over the summer. “Fair. You want me to come with you?”

“Not in the slightest.” Adam grinned. Ronan pouted. “You’ve got exams to study for—” Looking pointedly at the laundry basket in Ronan’s hands, he went on, “And chores to finish.”

“Was this your plan the whole time?”

“Sure, let’s go with that.” Adam kissed Ronan’s cheek, tilted his head down so that Ronan could kiss his forehead, and left Ronan to shove the clothes into the dryer.  
  


* * *

  
Only Adam.

Only Adam would find a way to take a task like grocery shopping and make it dangerous (if you overlooked the shopping cart incident, but that was different). Ronan was running through his medication flashcards at the kitchen table when he heard the car pull up. He was almost at the end of his deck, so he kept going, figuring Adam wouldn’t take too kindly to being fussed over during the one thing Ronan was letting him do. But when Adam pushed the door open with his hip, breathing heavily and carrying an overfull shopping bag in each arm, Ronan decided that Adam didn’t have a choice in the matter—he was going to be fussed over, whether or not he liked it.

“Were you just straight up not listening at the doctor’s office?” Ronan said, going over and snatching one of the bags from Adam. He hoisted it in his arms for emphasis. “Heavy lifting.”

Adam rolled his eyes, trying to push past Ronan into the kitchen. “This isn’t heavy and you know it.”

Following Adam, Ronan set his bag (which wasn’t all that heavy, but it was the principle of the thing) on the counter and peered inside. He’d actually gotten stuff for himself, including popsicles and at least three flavors of lozenges, something that Adam of two years ago never would have done. At least there was some sort of growth going on today. Ronan was about to comment, however, at the present moment Adam was trying to fit too many vegetables in the crisper and seemed to have hit a roadblock. He stared at the drawer, a broccoli crown keeping it from closing, pulled it open, then tried to close it again.

“You, uh, need a hand?” Ronan offered. Wordlessly, Adam stepped out of the way, allowing him to rearrange the contents of the fridge. Once everything was closed, Ronan turned around. “Maybe it’s time to rest for a bit.”

Adam nodded and started toward the living room, flopping onto the couch. “I’m sorry for being terrible at all this.”

Groaning, Ronan knelt on the floor beside the couch and rested his palm on Adam’s cheek. “You’re not terrible, you’re just shit at letting people do stuff for you.” Adam shrugged. “You also have a fever again.”

“I figured,” he mumbled. “I said I’d cook, though.”

“On second thought, you should probably wait until your fever’s gone.”

“Probably shouldn’t have gone grocery shopping like this, if I’m being honest.”

“Yeah. We don’t need you being a menace to public health in addition to your own.” Ronan quickly pressed a kiss to Adam’s forehead. “I’m joking. A little. Maybe.” Adam frowned, but Ronan knew better than to think he was truly upset. “Why don’t you relax, I’ll put lunch together, and we can watch a movie?”

Adam looked ready to skip ahead to the movie, particularly the part where he inevitably fell asleep during it, but nevertheless insisted, “I  _ am _ a grown man who can look after himself, you know, and you’ve got work to do.”

“You’re also a dumbass who doesn’t know when to rest,” Ronan pointed out. Adam shrugged; there was no denying that. “I should probably take a break from studying for a bit. I feel like I’ve been doing drug dose calculations in my sleep recently.”

“Speaking of which.” Adam pressed his lips together, looking sheepish. “I forgot to take my prednisone this morning. Could you—”

Ronan threw his hands in the air. “Oh, so you’re terrorizing me all day with outlawed physical activity  _ and _ you forget to do the one thing that will make you actually feel better? You’re literally the worst sick person ever.”

“Am I at least cute, though?”

Leaning over and kissing the tip of Adam’s nose, Ronan nodded. “Yes. Now is there anything else I can get you besides your drugs and some water, mister ‘grownup who can take care of himself’?”

Adam hummed in thought, then replied, “Another kiss?”

“Unbelievable.” With what was perhaps the biggest eye roll of his life, Ronan kissed Adam as close to his mouth as he could safely go. After a few seconds, he pulled back, smiling and ruffling Adam’s hair before going upstairs.

He was pleasantly surprised when Adam let himself be taken care of through the afternoon, not even resisting when Ronan shooed him up to bed before ten.  
  


* * *

  
Adam Parrish was going to kill Ronan.

Well, he was going to kill himself, which would in turn kill Ronan.

His Sunday afternoon weapon of choice: leaves.

Ronan had hoped that after yesterday’s conversation, Adam would actually listen to the NP’s instructions, but in retrospect, it was a stupid thing to hope for. He’d gone to a last-minute review session with some of his classmates and came back to an empty house. Ronan called Adam’s name while walking from room to room; maybe Adam had simply fallen asleep somewhere else, but if he had, Ronan couldn’t find him. Ronan knew he had to be  _ somewhere _ on the property, because the Hondayota was still in the driveway (because it was undriveable at the moment, something for which Ronan was suddenly grateful). He went back outside and circled the house, stopping suddenly as soon as he saw Adam.

Setting a rake on the ground.

Dragging a tarp covered in leaves toward the woods.

Unzipping his coat and fanning at his flushed face.

Christ.

“What the fuck are you doing, Parrish?” Ronan stormed up to him, stepping on the tarp to keep him from pulling it any further.

“They’re gonna fuck up the grass if you leave them here all winter.”

Taking his glove off, Ronan reached out and touched the side of Adam’s neck. “You’re burning up.”

“Oh. I was feeling better earlier.”

“Sure. If it were just that you were doing yard work with a fever, I wouldn’t be that pissed off, but the fact that you were  _ specifically told _ not to do shit like this—”

Adam huffed, rolling his eyes. “This barely counts as physical activity.”

“Just because you’re used to doing manual fucking labor for eighteen hours a day doesn’t make this okay.” Ronan pointed in the general direction of Adam’s abdomen. “You’ve got some kind of time bomb in there and I’m not gonna let you hurt yourself.” They stared at each other for a long moment, then Ronan gestured to his feet, still holding the tarp in place. “I can stand here all day, but I doubt you can.”

Looking away, Adam pressed his lips together. “Can I at least finish with these?”

“Absolutely not.” Ronan jerked his head toward the house. “I’ve got it. Go inside, take some fucking Tylenol, and lie down.”

“Fine.” Clearly unhappy, but also clearly unwell, Adam turned and headed toward the house. Ronan stood with his eyes closed for a few seconds, willing himself not to react when he heard the door slam. Reaching down, he grabbed the edge of the tarp and continued dragging it toward the trees. 

“‘Barely counts as physical activity,’” he muttered, catching his breath after dumping the leaves into the woods, “Absolutely fucking ridiculous.”

Expecting that a grouchy Adam would be waiting for him when he went inside, Ronan continued dealing with the leaf situation, taking a few more loads to the woods and kicking himself for not dealing with this earlier in the fall when it was warmer, because of  _ course _ Adam was right about the grass. Once he’d had enough (although there remained a fair amount of work to do), he went inside to find Adam, freshly showered and dressed in Ronan’s clothes, half-asleep on their bed.

“Doesn’t this feel better?” Ronan murmured in his good ear.

Adam nodded and made a low sound of agreement, drawing his knees to his chest and noticeably shivering. “Could you actually get me another blanket?”

“Sure—be right back.” 

Ronan was gathering the quilt from Declan’s bed when an idea occurred to him. Once Adam was settled—he’d fallen asleep already, but woke enough to murmur his thanks when Ronan tucked him in—Ronan texted Gansey his proposition.  
  


* * *

  
“I’m gonna head to campus in a little bit,” Ronan announced the next morning as he handed Adam a mug of coffee and took a seat beside him at the kitchen table. “I feel like I should leave some time to get super anxious and then calm down before the exam starts.”

“You’re gonna do great, Ro.” Adam reached over and squeezed his hand. “And I promise I won’t try to, like, start any renovation projects or try to fix the damn car while you’re gone.”

Ronan’s mouth curled into a smile and he took a sip from his own mug. “Oh, I know you won’t; I’m making sure of it.”

“You hiring a babysitter for me, or…”

The doorbell rang; if there was a saint of comedic timing, Ronan would have to offer up his thanks. Pushing back his chair, he left a confused-looking Adam in the kitchen and went to the foyer, throwing the door open and welcoming Gansey and Blue inside.

“Where’s the patient?” Gansey called, quickly unlacing his shoes and following Ronan to the kitchen; Adam gave a two-fingered wave, looking resigned to the situation already. Dropping his backpack on the floor, Gansey pulled out a chair and sat backwards in it, facing Adam. “You know, out of all of us, I’m surprised that it was you who got mono first.”

“Why’s that?” Although he was clearly trying to hide it, Adam cracked a bit of a smile.

“Because I’ve made out with everyone in my friend group,” Blue said, joining them at the table, “Gansey’s made out with everyone in both our friend groups, and Ronan—”

Glaring at Blue, Ronan cut in, “Has only ever made out with Adam Parrish, thank you very much.”

“Let me finish.” Calmly, Blue continued, “And Ronan had that summer where he and like a dozen other degenerates all drank from the same disgusting handle of shitty vodka every night, which is basically the same thing as making out.”

“Well, vodka’s a good disinfectant, so of course I didn’t catch anything.” Ronan hadn’t considered the homoerotic implications of those nights until now, nor did he care to. “Anyway—now that you’re here, I’m gonna fuck off for a few hours and be a responsible little degenerate at school.”

Sighing, Adam looked between Blue and Gansey. “So you’re actually here to babysit me.”

“Oh, no, my friend,” Gansey said, unzipping the bag that he’d brought in with him, revealing at least a dozen skeins of yarn and various needles and hooks. “Babysit a man and he’ll stay out of trouble for a day, teach a man a hobby and he’ll stay out of trouble for a lifetime.”

“Thanks, guys.” It was hard to tell if the pink on Adam’s cheeks was from the fever or a cute little blush, but Ronan chose to believe it was the latter. Coming around behind Adam, he rested his chin on the other’s head and put his arms around him; Adam tilted his head back so Ronan could kiss his forehead.

“I’m gonna head out,” Ronan said, lips still on Adam’s definitely fever-warm skin, “Text me if you need anything.”

Twisting around, Adam tugged at Ronan’s shirt until he was in a position to hug him without the back of the chair in the way. “Good luck, honey. I love you.”

“Love you too. Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Oh, we will.” Blue, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee, interjected with a smile. “Now get out of here--we’ll send good vibes or whatever in your direction.” 

He was tying his boots in the foyer when he overheard Gansey ask, “So how  _ did _ you get mono, anyway?” Adam muttered something unintelligible. “What was that?”

“Boxed wine tasting party,” Adam said at full volume, then added, “We uh, forgot to get cups so we just kinda...drank from the spouts.”

“Adam!” Gansey sounded absolutely scandalized, and Ronan pictured him with a hand to his heart. “Boxed wine? I raised you better than that.”

“Clearly you didn’t,” Ronan called behind him as he stepped onto the porch and shut the front door, with shouts of good luck following him.  
  


* * *

  
“Somebody better call Declan,” Ronan announced as soon as he stepped inside, kicking his boots off in the entryway and heading to the living room, “because his disaster of a brother just passed his first community college class.”

Everyone had clearly stopped mid-conversation, various yarn projects held in front of them, but the room erupted into cheers and laughter as soon as the words were out of Ronan’s mouth. Blue tossed a ball of green yarn at him, then Gansey did the same, both colors unraveling in the air like streamers. Adam, who was on the couch and looking surprisingly healthy for once, pulled him down for a flurry of kisses on his cheeks. 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said, their foreheads pressed together. “I knew you could do it.”

Ronan took a second to blink back tears before looking to the others. “Thanks, guys. I still have the practical on Wednesday so I’m not quite done yet.”

“Oh no, you do not get to undersell your accomplishments like that,” Gansey declared, holding up a hand as if to stop Ronan. “I do have some bad news, though. I’ve created a monster.” He gestured to Adam and his not-insignificant stack of crocheted/knit squares; Ronan couldn’t tell the difference, but he suspected that he would soon be very, very familiar with the finer points of both.

“You’re gonna have a blanket by the end of the week, at this rate.” Blue looked up from her own work, which appeared to be a tiny stuffed raven. “He’s a quick study.”

“This surprises me not at all,” Ronan said as he squished himself onto the couch, letting Adam burrow his toes under his thigh. “How are you feeling?”

Adam shrugged, glancing up at Ronan briefly before returning his attention to the red square he was working on. “I took a bunch of ibuprofen a little while ago, so I’m feeling alright. Tired, though.”

“Maybe take a break after this one?” Gansey’s tone made it seem like he’d proposed this before and been shot down.

“Maybe.” Ronan poked at Adam’s shins. “Okay, okay, fine. Ow.” Adam paused. “Do you want to learn?”

Flopping onto Adam’s knees, Ronan looked up at his boyfriend. “I’ll give it a shot once I see you physically in bed with your eyes closed, okay?”

Setting his work in his lap, Adam reached out and rubbed his hand over the fuzz on Ronan’s scalp. “Sounds good, my star student.” Ronan only blushed a little.

Later, clearly more tired than he’d let on, Adam barely made it upstairs and into bed before falling asleep. After setting a glass of water on the bedside table for him, Ronan joined Blue and Gansey in the living room, where he was handed a ball of yarn and a crochet hook. 

He was not as quick a study as Adam, which Gansey was gracious enough not to point out as Ronan tried once more to do a triple-treble-double-whatever stitch without the whole thing turning into one big tangle. Gansey, however, was quick to point out that he never thought he’d hear Ronan utter the phrase, “I’d rather be studying right now,” and actually mean it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, team!
> 
> 1) as always, find me on tumblr at the same username
> 
> 2) feel free to hit me up with suggestions
> 
> 3) I've got another Adam's-trauma-centric piece in the pipeline, but also two aggressively fluffy pieces, so there's plenty of comfort to outweigh the hurt.


End file.
